


Home Where My Thought's Escaping

by Zetal (Rodinia)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:05:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/pseuds/Zetal
Summary: Leaving home was one of the best things Phichit ever did for himself.  Getting to America, getting out on his own... he loves his parents, but just like everyone in their late teens, he wants his independence and his parents, like many, weren't eager to give it to him.After a few years, though, the homesickness is overwhelming.  His best friend moving away certainly didn't help.  Phichit wants to go home, but there's one big problem with that - his coach, the man who got him from barely qualifying for international competition to winning bronze at Four Continents, placing in the top six at Worlds, is in Detroit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Phichit! <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from DailyAU: “hey thanks for literally saving my life by pushing me out of the way of that car, but now you’re yelling at me bc i was reading and walking and you said i’m too cute to die” AU  
> By @gabriellefe

Phichit’s first thought when he went clattering to the ground was that his phone better be all right. He’d be able to replace it, eventually, but nearly all his savings had been spent on moving to America and he wouldn’t be able to afford a decent phone until his sponsorship checks hit, which wasn’t supposed to happen until next week. He could ask his parents, and they’d get him whatever phone he wanted – along with a lecture of “this is why you don’t move to America when we could have easily afforded to bring this coach here.” Celestino had been willing to come to Thailand to train Phichit, even though the two had never met face to face. It was Phichit who insisted on moving to America – not least because he wanted to get away from his parents and be independent.

The phone was fine. He took it from the handsome man who held it out to him. “Thanks. What happened?”

“What happened is that you were paying so much attention to your phone that you walked right out in front of a car, you idiot! You are too young and too cute to die. Pay attention to what’s happening around you, will you?”

Phichit looked up from the phone, trying to suppress the giant smile. “Well then. Help me make sure this thing isn’t broken and take a selfie with me?”

“Sure, but I should warn you, it might draw attention. I’m not exactly famous, but if the right people see it…”

Phichit burst into laughter. “Hi. I’m a millennial. Why would you think internet attention would be a bad thing?”

The guy joined the laughter. “True, I didn’t exactly think that one through. Come on, then. I have an appointment to get to.”

“Yeah, me too.” Phichit posed with his savior and took the selfie, posting it with the caption _Welcome to America! Almost died, but got saved by a modern-day white knight._

Things got a little weird when he noticed his savior was going the same way he was. When his phone rang, he welcomed the distraction, even if it was his mother. “What’s this about you nearly dying?”

“It’s fine, Mom, I wasn’t paying attention and walked out into traffic. I won’t be doing that again, I promise. Relax. I’m not hurt, I’ve taken way worse on the ice.” He noticed his savior was now staring at him. “I’ve gotta go, Mom, but I am fine. I promise.” He hung up and stared back at the guy. “What.”

“Look, this is going to be very awkward if I’m wrong, but are you Phichit Chulanont?”

Phichit blinked. No one in Detroit should know his name. Well, except Celestino and anyone he’d told, but still. His older brother’s taunting about being stalked and murdered flashed through his head. “Who’s asking?”

“Celestino Cialdini. If you’re Phichit, I’m your new coach, and given the time, you ought to be on your way to meet me right now.” Celestino held out a hand.

Phichit took it. “Wow. Okay, I get me not recognizing you, I’ve seen you on TV at competitions but they don’t really spend a lot of time on coaches unless they’re Yakov Feltsman. You didn’t recognize me from my skating?”

“I thought you might be, but you look different enough in street clothes that I wasn’t sure. But then I heard you say something about getting hurt on the ice…”

“You speak Thai?” Phichit interrupted. He hadn’t said anything horribly embarrassing to his mom, but still, this was very important to know.

“Not much, but for a while I thought I might be moving to Thailand, you know. I figured the sooner I started learning, the more I’d have when I got there. Even if I didn’t end up going I’d still have a Thai skater at my rink. If I needed to tell you something other skaters didn’t need to hear, being able to say it in Thai would make it easier.”

“Ha! Fair enough. Can you read Thai?”

“Not very well, but I’ll get there.” Celestino grinned at him. “If you graffiti something in the locker room, I may not recognize it immediately but I’ll be able to figure it out.”

“Well, darn. There go my plans to rebel without getting in trouble. If you see Thai graffiti in the locker room, it’s someone else trying to get me in trouble.”

“Except now that you’ve said that, you could do it to get someone else in trouble. I think I’ll stick with the simplest explanation, at least until I know someone else at the rink knows enough Thai to write something.”

Phichit shrugged. “Worth a try, though!”


	2. Chapter 2

A few years later, Phichit curled up in his bed. Since Yuuri had left, Detroit seemed lonely, and the homesickness he’d been fighting all along was hitting so hard he couldn’t breathe. Even the bronze from Four Continents couldn’t help – he was so close to the breakthrough, to being where he needed to be to start making his dream happen.

There was a knock at the door, and Phichit opened it. It wouldn’t be Yuuri. Yuuri wasn’t here. Probably Leo or Seung Gil or Celestino. Possibly Viktor Nikiforov, he’d heard that Viktor had been asking about Yuuri and surely by now someone would have pointed him Phichit’s way.

It was Otabek. “Hey. Congratulations. Bronze must be huge back home.”

“It is. Is it okay if I come in?”

“Sure, is something wrong?” With Otabek, it was impossible to tell if his face meant that he’d just learned his nieces or nephew were sick, someone said something mean about Yuri Plisetsky, or he’s just won bronze at Worlds and he still wasn’t allowed to eat dessert.

“Kind of. I got into a fight with JJ, and he said I’d better enjoy this medal because next year, he, Viktor, and Yuri are going to keep me off the podium.”

“Bold of him to assume he’ll make it over Christophe, and I wouldn’t count Yuuri out, either. Katsuki, I mean.” Phichit stepped back, letting Otabek in. “You know what you have to do, right?”

“Beat him next year, I know. Next year’s a big year for me, I think. I’m going home to Almaty…”

“You are? That’s great!” Phichit threw his arms around Otabek, who hugged back one-armed. “You found a coach willing to work with you there?”

“Yeah. Almaty’s taking aim at the 2022 Olympics, so I won’t be training in a shopping mall this time, I’ve got a coach coming, I’ll be turning eighteen in October, it’s time. JJ disagrees. He doesn’t understand why I want to go home instead of staying and training with my friends in Canada.”

Phichit rolled his eyes. “JJ’s not exactly the best at understanding people’s feelings, is he. He trains at home. You cannot get closer to training at home than training with your parents, unless you literally built an ice rink in your basement or something. You’d think he’d know what it was like to train away from home, but then, America’s not that different from Canada.”

“Don’t let Leo hear you say that.”

“Or JJ. I know. I’ve got better sense than that!” Phichit winked. “But considering the differences between Kazakhstan and either…”

“Or Thailand.”

“Or Thailand. I want to go home.” Phichit could feel the tears rising when he said that. Detroit had become home, in a way, but not like Thailand. It never could be like Thailand. “I don’t want to change coaches, though.”

“You could ask Celestino. It couldn’t hurt. Worst that happens is he says no and you’re still at the point of trying to decide which is more important to you.”

“True. I’ll think about it. What are you gonna do about JJ?”

“Either he’ll get over it and we’ll drift apart over social media since he’s not exactly good at it, or he won’t get over it and we’ll say we’ll stay in touch over social media and then just not. I’ll miss him, but if this is how he’s going to be when I beat him, I’m better off without him.”

“Is this really the first time you’ve beaten him? I know you didn’t medal at Four Continents and JJ took silver, but…”

Otabek shrugged. “Well, you know, I wasn’t all that good in Juniors. I was so far behind. I’ve mostly made that up now, but I need to prove to everyone that this wasn’t luck. Other than Katsuki imploding and not being here, anyway. Speaking of… Viktor Nikiforov is looking for you.”

“Why?”

“You know he’s been asking around about Katsuki. Someone told him I was a huge Yuri fanboy, and when he came to talk to me, I told him that you were Katsuki’s best friend. Now he’s looking for you.”

“How’d Viktor take it when you told him wrong Yuri?”

“I got a lecture on how I should sit down and really watch Katsuki. Ignore the jumps and focus on the spins and the dancing. Then he told me that if I ever turned into one of the crazy Angels, he’s old enough and decorated enough to retire, so if he got banned from the sport he could live with that.”

“The word retire came out of Viktor Nikiforov’s mouth.”

“Yes. I don’t think he meant it, but… he’s hard to read.”

“Well, shit. That’s not good.” If Viktor retired, there was no way Yuuri would get back on the ice. None. Wouldn’t happen. “Got any idea where Viktor is now?”

“Still doing the press thing, probably. Between being surly and laconic, the bronze medalist, and no one anyone’s heard of from a country more people know for Borat than anything real, I was able to get out of there a lot quicker than he was.”


End file.
